I'm sitting in my in-laws house right now, so I'm reminded of the first time I told Papa about my new Greek girlfriend.
I was standing in the kitchen and I had just driven up from Campaign. I told my Dad that I had just started seeing a new girl and that she is Greek.
"Does her father work in a grocery store or a produce store?"
"He works in a produce store, how did you know?" I asked, astounded because her father was indeed working at a produce store at the time.
"Does she have a brother named George?" He asked.
"Yes, how did you know?" I was really surprised because I knew this was the first time he was hearing about my future wife.
"All Greeks have a brother named George and all Greeks work in either a produce store or a grocery store. Does she have a mustache?"
"HA, there you're wrong, she doesn't."
"Two out of three," he shrugged and wished me luck.
Just to let you know, my Father and my in-laws got along great. Also, after eating my Mother-in-law's, he refused to eat anyone else's lamb. He would say, "When you've had the best, why have anything less."
Once when they were in Florida they went to a place famous for their lamb and the other people he was with goaded him into ordering theirs. He did.
The maitre d came over and waited patiently for the verdict. "Pretty good," he said, "but still not the best." He then explained how to do it better. The maitre d took notes.